He Should Not Have Caught Her
by warwick-witch
Summary: No matter how much gold he spins, no matter how many times the wheel turns, he will never forget. What he saw cannot be unseen, not in a year and a day, not in a thousand and one nights, not ever after. Rumpelstiltskin/Belle. One-shot.


_Author's Note: Inspired by one of the sneak peeks for episode twelve but written before the episode itself. English is not my mother language but I hope the piece reads well._

_Disclaimer: I do not own _Once Upon a Time, _nor its characters. I am only doing this for fun._

* * *

><p><span>He Should Not Have Caught Her<span>

"What did you do, _nail_ them down?"

"Yeah."

Belle laughs and pulls the curtain, giving out a tired sigh when the fabric does not give away the first time. She pulls again, harder. The old fabric cracks and rips under her weight, causing her to lose her balance. She falls off the ladder surrounded by little specks of dust dancing in the sunlight coming from window. Right into her captor's arms. He does not even look at her when it happens, he is looking out the window instead, surprised. When he turns his gaze to Belle, his expression is confused, his lips parted, as if he had never seen her before and had no idea how she had found her way into his arms.

"Thank you," she says, hoping that breaking the silence will break whatever spell he is currently under and make him put her down.

His gaze is now more intense than before and he still seems to have no idea who she is and why he is holding her. He does not seem like a strong man and yet he stands there, motionless, supporting her back with one arm and her legs with the other. His grip is strong and delicate at the same time and both these qualities surprise her equally. She imagined him to be cold and slimy, like a toad. Contrary to what she expected, he is warm and does not reek of rot and slime. The skin on his face still shines like fish scales but, in this new light coming from the window, it looks more like grey than the usual yellowish-green.

When he finally puts her on the ground, his eyes are still fixed upon hers.

"You should be more careful, dearie, you could have got hurt," he says. He then makes a movement as if he wanted to stroke her cheek with his hand but he stops himself in the middle, curling his fingers into a fist and slowly lowering it down. "If you wanted to take the curtains down, all you had to do was ask," he smiles, takes a step back and spreads his arms in a quick, dramatic movement.

The air trembles with magic and the curtains obscuring the other windows slide apart with a swoosh. He lets out another high-pitched laugh and turns back to Belle, who is watching him in amusement.

"After all," he says in a dark tone, cutting the distance between them in one leap. "I might not always be there to catch you," he whispers, lifting her chin with his index finger and moving his face so close to hers that they are almost touching.

And then he is gone, leaving her with the echo of his high-pitched laughter ringing in her ears

**xxx**

No matter how much gold he spins, no matter how many times the wheel turns, he will never forget. What he saw cannot be unseen, not in a year and a day, not in a thousand and one nights, not ever after. It must remain a secret, he cannot afford for anyone to learn about it, the consequences would be too dire. He should not have let himself be caught off guard like that. All mistakes have a price. Fortunately, there is somebody who can pay for this one on his behalf.

He should not have caught her. He should not have let her catch him without his mask. He should have stayed in the shadows, he is a toad after all, a slimy, rotten toad with poisonous skin. A toad that, when kissed, turns the unknowing fair maiden into a fly and devours her, trapping her with its long, sticky tongue. Belle is clever and he will need more than a shiny sugar cube to deceive her. He should not have caught her but now that he has, he was not going to let her go.

She saw it. He knew she saw it. He saw its reflection in her eyes, that little, foolish, barely visible spark. And yet she saw it. His eyes burned with that flaming new emotion and even though the fire is long gone, it still burns. No matter how much he will spin, he will never forget. Straw is dry and it will only make the fire stronger.

He will jab his eyes out if he has to, he cannot have this happen again. Jab them out and lock them in a trunk in the highest tower guarded by the fiercest dragon.

He is the Dark One. The Dark One yearns power and that is the only thing that he desires. What drives him is the will to rule and control, to manipulate and wreak havoc. The Dark One does not waste his time on foolishness.

And yet it was there, burning, blazing, turning him into ashes. And she saw it. He saw it reflected in her eyes before he managed to put it out.

That treacherous spark of hope for a happy ending.


End file.
